


The Cure for Sleep Paralysis

by sophisticated_apple



Category: Original Work
Genre: Anxiety, Sleep Paralysis, alien[?] shenanigans, and also use this. site, im still learning how to write
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-18 14:40:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28868685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sophisticated_apple/pseuds/sophisticated_apple
Summary: Kyle gets sleep paralysis because he's horrible about taking care of himself, and before things get really bad, his new friend comes to try to help ground him.





	The Cure for Sleep Paralysis

**Author's Note:**

> i... still don't exactly know how to use this site. take this, enjoy

Kyle had woken up staring at the ceiling. Directly up.

Definitely not how he'd fallen asleep naturally.

His dream that night had been unremarkable, which was to say, he couldn't remember it. His mind struggled to grab onto pieces of scenes to stitch together into an ugly quilt of a memory, but it was fruitless. His eyes rolled, scanning the scene around him, eyes dragging over until they stopped at the clock, which was nothing more than a blurred mess of red.

His glasses were off, too? 

He tried to roll over. Tried. All of him felt glued in place in a familiar, yet uncomfortable feeling as his head filled up with nothing but anxious and exhausted thoughts. The only thing he could move was his face and neck, and he used this fact in the worst way possible, turning to see the door.

He'd remembered being carried like a person in stilts would carry a vase. Careful, clunky movements that he was too tired to think about, barely any sound coming from the carrier, the only thing he could hear was soft, static-soaked breathing.

He blinked a few times. The tired wasn't going away. The taste of sleep was still flat on his tongue. His breathing was soft, yet heavy with anxious energy, him refusing to pay attention to his peripheral vision in fear of what was to come. Sleep paralysis wasn't uncommon for him, spending late nights at his desk, not voluntarily falling asleep but instead giving up when his body forced him to, but it was still awful each time. Something turned in his stomach.

His door creaked.

And he held his breath.

It opened all the way and the figure responsible just barely fit in the door frame. Kyle sighed, relieved that it was someone semi-familiar, but regretted it as soon as he really realized who it was. 

The creacher-- [No, no, that's inaccurate, mean. He had intelligence, he was smarter than Kyle sometimes, he had personality.]  
The person-- [No! That's not it either. He wasn't a human, that was for sure.]  
The being stood in the doorway, one hand barely resting on the frame while the other stayed to the side and figeted with its own fingers. His skin was darkened by the dim lighting of the room, but little parts of it glowed, as if someone threw glow-in-the-dark sand at him and it happened to stick. Both sets of wings were nervous, the ones at the side of his head almost covering some of his many, many eyes.

Kyle didn't want to stare, he'd avoided doing it the entire time he was here, but he needed something to focus on that wasn't the shadows forming in the corner of his eyes, coiling and-

The other silently, and so, so carefully, took a step into the room. Kyle's breath stopped for a second, only to resume at twice the pace it was as before. He stepped again, once, waited, twice, at a pace so slow Kyle thought he was seeing things. Which wouldn't be too inaccurate, given the current state of things. He felt that air around him grow hotter, whether this was because his anxiety was quickly growing to fill his entire body, or if it had something to do with his visitor's presence, or if it was even a mix of both, he didn't know.

Finally he'd made it to the edge of his bed. Kyle could feel his breath shaking, unable to discern a meaning or intent from those many tired, alien eyes. The hand that had been previously figeting with itself was now drawing up, pulling the blanket back so he could take his arm and examine it

Oh god.

He took Kyle's wrist. A warm feeling escaped the palms of his hands and bled down the rest of the arm, trailing through his entire stiff body.

He gently put the arm back under the covers.

And walked away.

Kyle could sit up now, always something to celebrate. His breathing was level, his body was warm, and the reality of the situation hadn't set in just yet. He could leave that for the morning though, or whenever else he wakes up. The sleep was set back into his body, so he layed back down, this time on his side, pulled the cover back up, and slowly dozed off back into that boring, unremarkable dream.

Goodnight.


End file.
